


In over your head

by orphan_account



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Community: Suitsmeme, Fluff, Gen, Hair, Kink Meme, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:38:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Proving his brain-to-body filter has disintegrated, as soon as he waves his way past Donna, he says, "Harvey! Look at this."</i>
</p>
<p>For a prompt requesting Harvey relieving Mike's stress by petting his hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In over your head

Because Mike has no sense of self-preservation, it's Donna who first remarks on his paper clips.

"That's a waste of firm money," she mentions in passing. Mike catches a little edge of distaste in her voice, like she's too mighty to be occupied by the clips bent into jagged stars (she probably is), and looks down. He has on his desk strips of metal disfigured by his folding them over and over in his stress. It's his version of Harvey chewing his pens, although Harvey tends to look sexy doing it while even Mike thinks the clip in the shape of a gun makes him look maniacal. With delayed groaning, he realizes it also makes him look useless. The rest of the associates were collaborating on an important case, but he was drowning himself in the coffee pot and torturing innocent office supplies.

He bounces over to Harvey's office. No clients are disgracing the place, which is good; his insomnia tends to put him in a state where he can blurt out anything. As a teenager, although he's blaming pot for those occasions, he broke into dancing— like stress baking with less flour and dangerous utensils. It's been years since he had a relapse of insomnia and this one hits him especially hard.

Proving his brain-to-body filter has disintegrated, as soon as he waves his way past Donna, he says, "Harvey! Look at this."

His boss doesn't spare him a glance. "Great."

"Do you— no, you don't mean that," Mike says, mortified the thought Harvey might give him praise for nothing even passed his mind. "Couldn't you, I don't know, take a look?"

A file folder passes from one of Harvey's hands to the other. "No."

"What are you working on? Can I help?" It would be a good diversion from Mike's current case, where everything he does only seems to harm it.

The small print on Harvey's sheet of paper must be very interesting. "No."

"You're sure of everything?"

Harvey sighs. His nose practically touches the paper. "What are you asking?"

"Why not, Harvey?"

" _Why_ are you asking—?" Then Harvey finally allows his gaze to pass over Mike and promptly turns back to his work. "I see. Perhaps you should take the day off," he finishes, and that doesn't sound too appealing.

Mike sidles up to the desk. Harvey, he has learned, doesn't have much of a personal bubble, but he does seem touchy when touched (bad puns are part of his stress repertoire), so his tentative hand on Harvey's neck really gets his attention. "What are you doing?"

"It's calming," he says, then he realizes his fingers are kind of in Harvey's hair, resting in the short tufts free of his hair gel. "And please tell me it's not grounds for a sexual harassment suit?"

"To the latter, not for me. To the former, you think so?" He has the slightly widened eyes of real curiosity.

"Yes," Mike says. He isn't entirely responsible for his actions now anyways, he thinks, so he presses closer until the back of his head reclines against the wool of Harvey's suit and waits for him to laugh.

"Hm." Harvey's more out of his depth than he appeared; he cranes his head forward, probably trying to catch Donna's eye and silently convey _What the hell, he put me up to it_. That brings his chin right above Mike's head. Mike fleetingly wonders if everyone in the office is watching him in here, even in his current state he knows he shouldn't be lying across Harvey in the daytime, but then Harvey touches his hair with as little surety as Mike touched his. Mike does his best impression of a human melting.

_How did Harvey know how to do that?_ His brain kicks back into functioning to answer _I told him_ , but Harvey's kind of petting his hair and it feels as glorious as any legal brilliance he's ever composed. The movement of Harvey's fingers against his head are increasingly sure as he relaxes into his position. Harvey breathes easily; Mike's becomes more even, less like hyperventilation, as Harvey keeps doing something at the roots where dark hair, with a slight curl, becomes messier and lighter.

"Who had to pull the adrenaline out of you when you were younger?" Harvey asks.

"It was always Grammy," Mike reminisces, leaning back more so Harvey has to shift to let Mike nestle into his shoulder. The stroking of his hair continues, so good he doesn't care that some paralegal just walked by the office determinedly not looking at him. "She used to call me a giant dork for it." 

Harvey says "You still are," but with a degree of fondness Mike would give up any amount of exposure (and sleep) to hear again.

His mind still doesn't have his mouth fully under control. "You're reinforcing my bad habits."

"This one's not bad." Harvey offers him one last pat on the head, then a light push to his back. "Can you do some work for me before I have to indulge it again, though?"

**Author's Note:**

> Repost of [this kink meme fill](http://suits-meme.livejournal.com/1484.html?thread=173260#t173260). All kinds of feedback are welcome and appreciated!


End file.
